Both Feet In
by nugget-basket
Summary: Seraphina is approached by the angel Castiel to help out the guys. This is a prequel. No romance yet, OC fic.


/Okay, so I realize there are a lot of OC stories out there where they fall in love with either Sam or Dean yada yada. My OC on the other hand, just considers the brothers like family. No romance whatsoever, for now, but not necessarily with my OC involved. I'm not sure if you know where I'm going with this…hehe. So, to the story! Thanks in advance for reading! Constructive criticism is appreciated ^^ and please PM or comment if you have prompts or ways of continuing this /

I was just finishing a law report on conveyancing when Castiel showed up. "Seraphina?" He asked, in that gravelly, solemn voice of his. It took me a moment to find my voice seeing as in my world, Supernatural was a TV show, and this should not be happening. My mind rationalized it. This was just some thief who'd done his homework, looked astonishingly like Misha Collins and also liked to cosplay as Castiel. His trench coat was settling around his calves, and as usual, his tie was slightly off. I backed up against the wall, trying to look around for some way to fend off this guy, except he was just standing there not doing anything. Confusion chased away the fear for a while and I straightened, covering half the distance between us before asking, "Who exactly are you?"

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord." He stared at me in the same intense way the TV show Castiel did and my brain struggled to find a rational explanation. After a moment of useless brain torture, I gave up, and sighed.

"Okay, okay. You're Castiel. Why're you here?" I shot, in my best lawyer voice.

"I understand you would like to assist Sam and Dean Winchester, am I not correct?" Castiel continued to bore into my eyes with his. My jaw, already loosened, dropped some more.

"Wait, the _real_ Sam and Dean?" I rested my hands on my hips and gave Castiel a look. "you know here they're just fictional characters right Cas?"

Castiel responded with a slight jerk of his head and a spark of something sweet and adorable in those lovely blues of his, when I called him Cas. I inhaled sharply. This was definitely the real Castiel. I had always considered myself open, and even for me, that moment when I just had to accept the crazy reality of the situation, was pretty difficult. "Only in this universe." He told me with a slight twinge of pink in his cheeks.

"Okay. How much time we got?"

"Excuse me?" Castiel's forehead creased.

"Right…how much time do I have left here before we have to leave?"

"There is no deadline. You may take as much time as you need."

"Can I take material items with me?"

"You may."

"What happens when I leave?"

"It will be as if you never existed here." Castiel watched me, ever-solemn. "I understand if you need time to make your decision."

"Are you kidding?" I grinned. "I've already made my decision. I just need some time to tie stuff up before we leave you know?"

Castiel nodded. "Call me when you are ready, Seraphina. Thank you. The Father thinks you will be beneficial for the Winchesters."

"God? I thought God left…" I murmured, puzzled, but Cas was gone. I let my breath go, exasperated. I was beginning to understand Dean's frustration with the socially awkward angel.

I sat down on my bed, and gathered myself. I had to pack, withdraw all the cash as I had, and get as much money as possible. I knew I had a couple ways of doing so, but it would take time.

"Better get going then," I said to the empty room.

At the end of a week, I had packed my stuff, said my goodbyes to family in a very subtle way, and I was still high from a farewell party my friends had held for me. (I'd told them I was going home) I waved goodbye to my room, and called out to Castiel. For a moment a gripping terror that he wasn't going to come seized my heart and knocked me sober. A moment later, he was standing in the narrow space between the closet and the bed. "Stanford dorms are small," I said apologetically, "I'm ready to go!"

Cas nodded, and I sensed a change in air pressure, as my stomach dropped out beneath me. I gasped, and the next moment, my pack and I were standing outside a motel room. I was alone. It hit me that I wasn't entirely sure what to do… Should I just go in? They must have already met Castiel by now….when was that? Oh yes, Season 4. Damn, if I'm smack in the middle of Season 4, I'm not sure I'll be able to hold my ground. At least I'd be able to know which episode I was in by the case they were working.

I steeled myself for the entry, and knocked on their door. I smoothed my raven hair and straightened my t-shirt, hoping the angel flight hadn't messed me up. I had dressed with the fact that I was joining them as a hunter in mind, and thus had gone with a simple, form fitting tee and skinny jeans. I was hoping I'd be able to wiggle into their good books by the very fact that I wasn't an ugly witch, well, at least in the beginning anyway. There was murmuring behind the door when I knocked, and a few moments later, the door opened, and Dean poked his head through the gap. I ignored the swooping sensation in my gut, trying to forget how much they meant to me as a fangirl, and flashed him my brightest smile.

"Hi!" I was just winging this, and I felt I needed to actually be through the door, in order not to get shut out when I was telling my crazy story. "You're a fed aren't you?"

Dean smirked at me, and clearly mistaking me for one of the dumb bimbos, said, "Why yes I am."

"I saw you from across the lot! See, I've got another friend with me, in the other room, and we were thinkin' would you like to hit the bar with us? We'd like the company…" I batted my lashes flirtatiously, my exasperation that Dean would fall for this battling with my affection for the dunce. I looked over his shoulder. "Can I come in?" Without waiting to hear his answer, I skipped through the door, flashing a smile at Sam, who was sitting on one of the beds, and turned to the two of them. "I'm Seraphina by the way, but you can call me Sera."

Dean shot a confused glance at Sam, then looked at me, "I'm Agent Tyler, and this is Agent Perry."

I rolled my eyes. "Right, and the Ghostfacers are genuine hunters."

The brothers spoke at the same time.

"How'd you know about the Ghostfacers?" Sam asked.

"Hunters?" Dean's forehead crinkled.

"Your angel friend, Castiel brought me here. Said you two could use help."

"We don't need help." Dean said, rather menacingly, but I wasn't fooled. I knew he just wanted to protect him and Sam. But this also meant that he wasn't that close to Castiel yet, which meant…

"Wait, which case are you guys working?" I asked, urgently. Dean looked like he was going to smartass me again, but thought better of it, when I repeated my question, with even more urgency.

"Frank O'Brien, why?" Sam answered, finally.

"The marathon runner who died of a heart attack?" I clarified.

"Yeah. What's it to you?" Dean asked, suspiciously.

I sighed, relieved. Nothing crazy was going on as of yet. Sure, Lucifer was about to come out of his cage soon, but for now, the brothers had no real reason to be suspicious of angels or gods or anything.

"Sam, Dean, just saying if you guys want to subject me to the whole holy water, silver, etcetera etcetera, you'd better hurry. I want to hear about the case."

It didn't take long for me to explain my situation and Cas' role in it, and how I knew them and their future. They were still pretty suspicious, but I'd bagged the couch, out of a show of goodwill, and they seemed genuinely pleased at how normal I was. Almost to an extent that it was just sad.

We went to a diner in town, and ordered burgers for dinner. There, we discussed the fine print of the case.

"So O'Brien died of a heart attack at 44, perfectly healthy and a marathon runner. His autopsy checked out. The sheriff was a weird germophobe too. Victims had red scratches and were dead between 48 hours, last person to see the vic alive was Mark Hudson. Have I got it all?" I looked up at the two.

"O'Brien was also nervous, and scared right before he died. Apparently scared of witches." Sam filled in.

"Literally sick with fear." I sat back, "I'm not really sure, but I think there may have been a vengeful spirit in there somewhere."

"Are you gonna be doing this for all our cases, cause I think things could go a lot easier.." Dean hinted.

"You shouldn't depend on my memory alone. But yeah, my knowledge might help…at least I hope so." I smiled.

"Great." Dean's lips formed a thin line. "You're a real help."

"I really hope I can be Dean." I said, seriously. "I know you're not really close with Castiel yet, but I swear Dean, he really wants to help. In fact, you two become very close friends in time."

I changed the subject, "So you guys haven't visited Mark Hudson yet?"

I waited in the Impala while the guys interviewed Mark. When they came back, Dean's face was pale and he was shaking. I took one look at him and smiled sympathetically. "Snakes?"

"How'd you-oh right." Dean got into the driver's seat and buckled his seatbelt. "I hate snakes."

"You also hate witches," I supplied, unhelpfully. I was still kind of nervous around the two of them, understandable, considering how big a fan I was. So my conversational prowess was still somewhat stunted.

He gave me a strange look, then smiled at me. The first genuine smile I'd seen from him so far. Warmth filled me and I smiled happily back.

Sam glanced at the dashboard, and gestured irritably at the windscreen. "Dean we're only doing twenty!"

I tuned out their bickering and when Sam found the e.m.f, I pointed out what should have been obvious. "Dean has the fear sickness."

"Does this mean he'll die in 48 hours?" Sam wondered aloud. I shot him a look that very clearly said, be careful what you say around him!

"I'm gonna die?!" Dean turned to me, full of terror.

"We'll find a cure." I turned to Sam, "Call Bobby first thing tomorrow morning."

Dean fell asleep pretty quickly. I waited for Sam to come out of the shower, before giving him a reassuring pat. "Don't worry Sammy, Dean'll be fine. I won't let anything happen to the either of you." I told him determinedly.

"Sammy?" Sam froze. "Only Dean calls me that."

"Oh, right." I mentally smacked myself for trying to get close too quickly. "It's just that I know you guys so well. I know it's weird, but to me you guys are family!" I laughed shakily. "It's like having siblings with amnesia. You remember everything but they don't know you."

"Sounds kinda tough." Sam smiled. "It's okay though. Dean'll come around." He paused. "And so will I." With that, the younger Winchester went to bed, leaving me to take a shower and contemplate my newest existential crisis.

The next morning, Sam called Bobby. I leaned against the Impala, chewing on a donut, while Dean sat in the driver's seat, smoothing his dirty blond hair. Sam made his way over to us, his brow creased with worry. "You're not going to like this," He said to Dean.

"What?"

"I talked to Bobby…he says it's ghost sickness."

"Ghost sickness." Dean said, almost to himself as he leaned back against the seat.

"Yeah.

"Oh god, no…" Dean got out of the Impala and leaned beside me. "I don't even know what that is."

"Okay," Sam took the chance to educate us, "Some cultures believe that certain spirits can infect the living with a disease, which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes."

"Kay, get to the good stuff." Dean interrupted.

Sam sighed like he got this all the time, and gave me a resigned look. I smiled encouragingly, and he went on, "Symptoms are you get anxious, then scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out." Sam watched Dean carefully. The man looked like he was one step away from hyperventilating.

"It's affecting you already." I observed.

"Yeah but Sam, we haven't seen a ghost in weeks!" Dean chose to ignore me.

"Well, I doubt you caught it from a ghost." Sam said pragmatically. "The ghost infects that one person.."

"It spreads. Like a flu." I told Dean. "Frank was probably the first to be infected."

"Our very own outbreak monkey." Dean muttered.

"Right, get this, Frank was at a softball tournament where the other two were infected." Sam interjected.

"Dean got it from the corpse." I concluded.

Sam explained how the disease spread fear to those who had inflicted it themselves.

"What are you doing waiting down here anyway?"he asked Dean when he was done.

"Our room's on the fourth floor."

Sam and I stared at him.

"It's high."

I bit back a laugh and pursed my lips together, trying not to smile.

"Right." Sam stared at his brother. "I'll see if I can get us moved down to the first floor."

It wasn't long before we had the case cleared up with my help. The brothers made sure I wasn't in the line of action yet as I hadn't been trained, so I took up the unofficial position of researcher. They managed to gank the ghost, and soon we were back on the road.

I was excited. The episodes always featured new cases, but I felt there must be some time lapse. It wasn't like there were cases every day. Dean glanced at my ecstatic smile in the rearview mirror as I asked, "So, what's next?"

Sam turned around to talk to me. "Dean and I thought we could go to Bobby's for a while."

Dean nodded as he shifted into the next lane. "We figured it would do you some good to get trained up first before we hit the next case."

"Awesome!" I said happily, leaning back in the seat, chomping on my chocolate bar.

Dean rolled his eyes, grumpily. "You eat as much candy as a Trickster."

"How would you know? You've never met one."

"Yeah we did. That janitor, back in-"

"Firstly, that was Loki, a pagan god. And you'll find out about that one soon enough."

Dean huffed. "Just tell us."

"Can't mess with the timeline, bitches." I snickered, and took another bite of candy.

Dean made a face and muttered evilly under his breath. Sam turned to me to have a more productive conversation.

"Sera, do you have any experience with weapons?"

I grinned, "Do video games count?"

"Nope." Sam chuckled, "Really though…do you?"

"Nah, I was into weapons for a while, through video games and TV but I never actually handled one." I looked at him, enthused. "But I learn fast!"

"Oh, hey, we never really got to ask…what were you doing before this?"

I hesitated before answering, knowing that what I had been doing was what Sam had always wanted to do. "Law, at Stanford." My brows knit together.

"Oh, how was it?" Sam kept his voice carefully composed.

"Overly hyped. It's not as great as they make it out. Law school was tough. People didn't let anyone get ahead. It was a constant rat race; no one helped anyone else. If you had extra notes, you guarded them with your life. People stabbed each other in the back. Two of my friends committed suicide within the first year." I laughed, bitterly. "It sucked. And in the middle of that, while you were trying to get through, every night you just drank yourself dizzy. I finished a bottle of whiskey within a week, just trying to study late into the night." The brothers had been quiet throughout my monologue.

"In a world like that, Sam, you just don't know who's your friend and who isn't." I sighed wearily, "You have no friends in Stanford. Only allies. That's why I left so easily." I smiled at them.

They were silent, as if I'd made it awkward. But Sam quietly said, "At least in this line, you have your family." He cast a glance at Dean, and they shared a moment.

"okay, chick flick moment over." Dean announced. "How old are you, anyway?"

"22." I answered. Dean laughed.

"That was the age Sam was when I dragged him out of Stanford."

I smiled. "I remember."

I was nervous when we got to Bobby's place. I knew I'd have to go through the whole hoo-hah again, but it'd be worth it. I liked and trusted Bobby. Unlike the Winchesters I'd been brought up with a normal family life. I was used to instinctively liking and trusting people. Speaking of which, I still had to speak with Sam about Ruby. It was annoying that I still had to let things happen. God knows what would happen if I stopped things. It could make something even worse happen, so I had better keep my mouth shut.

I pulled my pack out of the car, and tagged behind Sam as Dean knocked on the door and called out to Bobby. The door opened, and Bobby stood there in his greasy apron. He wiped his hands on the apron, and told the boys to come in. Sam, as if sensing my discomfort, laid a hand on my shoulder and pulled me in front of him.

"Hiya Mr Singer." I said shyly. Dean raised an eyebrow at me, as if he didn't know it was in me to be so polite.

"What can I do for ya young lady?" Bobby stared at me with that puzzled look of his.

"Uh…" I licked my lips nervously. I was fine with Sam and Dean because of how well I knew them. I knew Bobby too, but he made me feel nervous for some reason. I really wanted him to like me and I wanted desperately to be included as a honorary Winchester, and the pressure was making me tongue-tied.

Sam saved me. "She's with us, Bobby. We thought maybe you could train her up."

"Who is she, exactly?" Bobby asked, obviously concerned that I might be some demon or something, given their track record for trouble.

"I'm Seraphina Casey. Sera for short." I stuck out my hand, and Bobby took it, still bemused. "I'm human," I added, before mentally smacking myself for being so weird.

Dean just stared at me like I was crazy, while Sam hid a smile behind his hand.

Bobby raised his eyebrows. "I see."

I told him my story over a big breakfast of pancakes and maple syrup. Bobby seemed enchanted by my childlike charm, because let's face it, I never actually grew up. For everyday life, I breezed through with the attitude of a laidback ten year old.

"So your angel friend dropped her right outside your door to be a hunter?" Bobby asked Dean.

"Apparently." Dean tapped his fingers against the table. I stared at the silver ring he wore and then at the amulet resting against his chest. I sometimes still couldn't believe I was here.

When we finished, I offered to clear up. The guys left for Bobby's study through the door of the kitchen, discussing the last case we'd cleared up. I popped the last morsel of pancake in my mouth and chewed on the syrup covered confection as I gathered the plates and washed up. I joined them in the study, and Bobby looked me up and down, doubtfully. I looked down at my sneakers. "Well, let's get started then." Bobby threw me a sawn off shotgun which I caught rather clumsily. "Garth can take a couple of yer cases off ya until this un's trained up."

Training was so so so so hard. First I practiced at aiming and shooting my shotgun, for hours on end, till my fingers were blistered from reloading the damn thing. Then I packed salt into bullets for Bobby, before running off to train with knives with Dean. He tossed me a dagger. "Show me how you hold that thing."

I wrapped my fingers around the hilt, the dagger itself facing downward. Dean nodded. I practiced a few random swings and grinned at Dean. Over the next few days we sparred, first without weapons, then with. I learnt how to throw a bone crushing punch, how to throw someone, how to disarm someone and how to incapacitate someone with just your fist. I learnt where the best places to hit where such that you could cause the most bodily injury. I sat with Bobby and learnt about all the creatures out there and what could kill them. He gave me a notebook filled with basic sigils. I redrew the demon trap so many times, my fingers knew instinctively what to do. I practiced the demon protection sigil on my arms whenever I was free. Sam and Dean went off by themselves to hunt, but not much. By the end of a hard month of intensive training, Bobby pronounced me ready to begin hunting on my own.

The brothers got to know me better, about my family and childhood. They began to treat me as a little sister, showing me things with a caring gentleness. At the same time, I brought them laughter and goodwill. They were normally so serious. I always made them lighten up. The way I saw it, even if the bloody Apocalypse was approaching, it was no reason to stop laughing and loving life. I knew I hadn't experienced enough of the pain that they went through to become as reticent as them, but I knew it wasn't in me to ever be that fucked up.

Sam and I spent a lot of time together. It was nice to get to know him, as a real person. Even watching the TV show I had realized that he was a character with a lot of depth and serious issues about himself, but this was a new window into Sam's soul. Early on he found that I was a good listener, and I didn't judge him, and he started opening up to me more about his life and his desires.

We went out on the porch one night, after a long day of training, and sipped at hot cocoa with marshmallows.

"Bobby's cocoa is the best," I said happily, curling my fingers around the cup. It was a chilly night, and the wind was stronger than usual.

"Sometimes, I wonder why you left." Sam told me, his brow creasing. "I would never have chosen this, if I had had the choice."

"You know how I told you your lives were in a TV show?"

"Yeah." His brown eyes sought mine, riddled with pain and longing for a different life.

Sorrow bubbled within me, but I quashed it and stared at the forest beyond the scrap yard. "I loved you and Dean, much before I met you. I remember feeling as if you were family. When I was alone in Stanford, all I had was you, even though I thought it was fictional."

"But why would you choose us over a normal life?" Sam just couldn't understand why I would want the pain he and Dean went through every day.

"Because normal's boring. And because, more than that, I would do anything to protect the two of you. You may not feel the same way, but to me you're both family." I took another sip. "When Castiel offered me the chance to help, I jumped at it."

"Castiel is a dick." Sam grumbled.

"Angels are dicks in general. Believe it or not, Castiel is one of the less dick-like ones." I shook my head, chuckling. "You'll see in time."

"What about Ruby? You don't really take to her do you?"

This was before the brothers came to know of Anna, and before Dean told Sam about Alastair.

I didn't answer his question right away.

"I can't change this timeline Sam. Everything that has to happen, has to happen. One way or another, it might be painful, and it might be awful, but everything turns out for the best. Why do you think Castiel only brought me here after he brought Dean back from hell? He knew I'd try to change some things. For now, all I can tell you about Ruby is that Dean is right not to trust her."

Sam looked away, his brows drawn together in worry and despair. "I'm sorry Sam." I continued. "Just be careful is all I'm saying. Don't let anything come between you and Dean."

We didn't speak about Ruby again.

Then everything spiraled down. Anna found out she was an angel, got back her grace and disappeared. Castiel and Uriel legged it back to heaven. Dean, Sam and I trudged back to the Impala. I stowed the gear in the back, and stood awkwardly near the brothers as Dean talked about the way he tortured the souls in Hell. My heart squeezed as I heard him sniffle, but I opened the door and got into the back of the Impala as the two Winchesters talked. Finally, they got back in. I didn't meet either of their eyes until we were in a motel somewhere in South Dakota. I knew what was going to happen next. Dean would start chasing cases non-stop for the next month, until Sam confronted him about it. I wasn't going to let that happen. I needed to talk to Dean alone. Even though Sam was his brother, he hadn't seen everything, whereas I had. I waited until Sam had fallen asleep. Dean was sitting on the couch, reviewing possible cases that we could work. I sat beside him, taking in the creases in his face, the worry lines near his eyes, the bags beneath his green eyes, and the way his hair stuck up in odd places.

"You feel like a soda?"

"What?" He raised his eyes from the map and stared at me as if he hadn't understood a word I said.

"Looks like you need a soda." I smiled, my eyes twinkling. "I think I saw one outside."

"It's 1AM. You should get some rest."

"I want a soda. Let's go."

"Man you're bossy." He sighed irritably and grabbed his coat while I grabbed my wallet. We trooped out silently to the vending machine a short walk away from our room and I bought two sodas. We popped open the cans and walked over to a bench to sit down.

"Let's talk. About Alastair."

"I don't want to talk about that." He swigged his soda.

"Dean. You can't hide anything from me." I sipped serenely.

He evaluated my poker face. "There's nothing else to say."

"I already know everything Dean. I need you to tell me how you feel."

"I don't do-"

"Chick flick moments, I know." Dean glanced at me, surprised. "Dean, for the next month, you're going to run on fumes. You're going to look for every single case that might involve the paranormal and you're going to solve every one. You're going to do this until you're exhausted because you think that by saving more lives you will somehow make up for the things you did in Hell, the things Alastair made you do." I softened my tone. "But at the same time, you know that any number of lives you save will never make up for what you did."

"How…" Tears welled up in Dean's eyes, reflecting the light of the street lamp.

"You're wrong." I told him, a lump in my throat. "It's not your fault. You didn't do those things Dean, you were just Alastair's puppet. And the fact that you liked it says nothing Dean. How do you think demons are made? They're human souls that have been trapped in Hell to the point where they become twisted and evil. You're no demon Dean, but that place does things to people. It is not your fault." I enunciated, stressing each word.

I leaned forward and wiped the wetness from his face with my palm. "I've got you, buddy."

He pressed his face into my shoulder and I held him tight, feeling him rock with the sobs that he tried to hold back. "You let it all out honey." I told him.

I hadn't finished my soda, and Dean was exhausted, so I made him go back in to rest while I stood outside, gazing out over the empty parking lot. "Cas?" I said aloud. "I need to talk to you."

A rustle of wings indicated his arrival. "Sera."

"What happens if I tell them about the future?" I asked, staring into the depths of his vivid eyes. I could almost see the flowing, light grace behind his eyes.

"You cannot." Cas said simply. "You may try to stop certain events from occurring however, though you cannot tell them everything that is to happen. You may be wrong. The future is not set in stone."

"Okay." I rubbed my eyes. "Do you know everything that's going to happen?"

Cas hesitated. "I do not. The Castiel that appeared to you was from a different time."

"Huh." The more I thought about it, the more confusing it became, so I decided to ignore it. "Oh well. Once all the stuff I know is over, it won't matter anyway." I said as an afterthought.

"Castiel?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe in God?"

Castiel stared at me, unsmiling. "I have faith."

"Good." I smiled. The Castiel I had met had already found God. That probably meant God was coming back. I sighed, joy soothing the ache in my heart from the events of the past week.

I finished the last of my soda. "Goodnight Cas."

He was already gone. I raised the empty can to the night sky and grinned as the first drops of rain fell on my upturned face. "Cheers God." Then I turned and dumping the can in the bin, walked back to our room.


End file.
